Barbara patted the horse and whispered soft words of encouragement and
then under her breath she sent up a fervent petition to the Virgin Mary
to protect them. Looking back, she recognized their pursuers, and told
Wemple that one of them was her brother, and another was a young man whom
her parents wished her to marry. This one had a faster horse than the
others and perceptibly gained upon the fugitives. He left the road where
a turn in it seemed to offer an advantage and, galloping across the
plain, was presently parallel with them and not more than two hundred
yards away. He raised his gun and Wemple, with quick perception noting
that his aim was toward their horse's neck, gave the bridle a jerk that
brought the animal to its hind feet as the bullet whistled barely in
front of them. It would have been quickly followed by another, but the
Indian's pony stumbled, went down on its knees, and horse and rider
rolled over together.

The other Indians came trooping on in a cloud of dust, yelling and
shouting, and now and then firing a shot, apparently aimed at the good
horse that so steadily kept his pace.

"They only want me," said Barbara. "If they can overtake us there are
enough of them to overpower you. They will not try to do much harm to
you, for they would not dare. But they will take me and carry me back
with them--if you let them."

"I will not let them," he replied between set teeth.

At last Wemple saw that their pursuers were slowly but surely gaining on
them. Barbara saw it too, and she redoubled her prayers to the Virgin,
and both she and her lover with words and caresses strove to keep up the
courage in their horse's heart. The good steed was of the sort whose